


Be Careful What You Wish For

by Zanne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, wincest (non-graphic/implied/one-sided)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Ruby used Sam's only weakness against him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://hunters-retreat.livejournal.com/profile)[**hunters_retreat**](http://hunters-retreat.livejournal.com/)  for beta-ing! This story came to mind almost immediately after IKWYDLS when Sam stated, "She said what you would have said, Dean." Yes, I laughed. What? It was funny. It screws with the timeline and events a of Sam's lost summer a bit. Large portions of dialogue/action taken from IKWYDLS. Kripke owns all. (Originally posted: 2/5/09)

  
She sat beside Sam in the car, everything about her all-too-familiar, despite having been gone for over two months and residing in a fresh new body.

“You know what sounds good?” Ruby asked brightly, the cheerful look somehow wrong, her long blonde hair framing her thin-boned face. She didn’t wait for him to reply. “French fries. I’m starvin’. I just escaped Hell…I think I deserve a treat.”

She glanced over at Sam, as if expecting him to join in the conversation, but he ignored her, staring resolutely forward.

“You know, a ‘thank you’ would be nice.” She sounded as if she believed it.

Sam’s reply came in a deadened tone, as if what she said didn’t really matter anymore.

“Who asked for your help?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through. When Lilith gets pissed….” Ruby looked at Sam, her blue eyes wide, “…she gets creative. You want to hear about the corners of Hell I’ve seen, Sam?”

He jerked his head slightly, an approximation of a response, reminded of the nightmarish imaginings that already ran through his head every second of the day, and his voice tightened. “No, I don’t.”

“And the things I had to do to convince her I was sorry? That I could be trusted?”

“Well, this’ll definitely get you a fat Christmas bonus.”

“Very funny.” Ruby looked forward, the pause in their stilted conversation almost uncomfortably long. “I’m a fugitive…for _you_ , Sam. I took all of this risk to get back to you so, yeah, I deserve a damn thank you.”

Sam’s reply tripped on the heels of her words, as if he couldn’t contain his outrage any further. “Who _asked_ you to save me?”

“I’m just trying to help!” Ruby appeared surprised by his response, his reply not at all what she expected, and she glanced from him, to the road, and back again, as if needing that moment to estimate what direction this conversation was headed.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Can you help me save Dean?”

“No.” Ruby kept her gaze on Sam, her sorrowful tone almost believable, if he bothered to forget who she was. “Nothing I know of is powerful enough to do that.”

Sam kept his focus on the road, trying to ignore the demon sitting so near, but she was making it impossible, making him think of things he didn’t want to. Tightening his jaw, he swerved to the side of the road, turning in the driver’s seat to face her when he pulled to a stop.

“Then I have no use for you.”

“What?!” Her voice raised higher, astonishment evident in her eyes.

“Get out.” Sam’s voice remained level, no wavering to give her hope he was kidding.

“Sam…”

He shifted in his seat, his words sharp as he stared at her. “Whose body are you riding, Ruby?”

The question left her confused, as if such a concern surprised her. “What do you care? You’ve never asked me that before.”

“I’m asking _now_.” Sam kept his gaze locked to hers, his jaw working as if on the verge of tears, though why this of all things might finally make him cry, he wasn’t sure.

“Some secretary.” Ruby kept her eyes downcast, locked in her lap, not daring to show him that this knowledge didn’t bother her.

“Let her go.”

“Sam…”

“Or I send you right back to Hell.”

That brought her eyes back up to meet his, and they just stared at each other. Seeing the truth in his words, Ruby nodded, opening the car door and walking resolutely down the road. 

                                                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam sat cleaning guns at the rickety table, the only light spilling through the half-boarded over wall, a thick curtain of ivy keeping the wind from blowing too sharply into the room. Not that it mattered to Sam. His focus remained steady on his weapon, the bullet cold in his hand as he readied to fill the chamber, when he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

He carefully set the revolver on the table top, reaching down to pick up the shotgun that leaned gracefully against the leg of the table. Sam rose to his feet, cocking the gun one-handed as he strolled towards the sound. His long legs quickly ate up the distance as he walked down the leaf-strewn hallway to face the door. Sam rested the muzzle of shotgun against the peeling paint scarring the middle of the wood, and as he opened it, his breath caught in his throat.

Ruby smiled at him with a full show of teeth, the gleam in her eyes making his stomach twist in knots.

“This body is 100% socially conscious.” She pushed in past him, and Sam breathed in her familiar scent, not quite believing what he was seeing. “I recycle. Al Gore would be proud.”

Sam took another breath, trying to ignore the slight icy staleness that assaulted his nostrils, and shakily closed the door with the muzzle of his shotgun. “You…”

“You didn’t want me to grab a body with anyone in it,” Ruby interrupted, sounding almost annoyed at his hesitation, her expression bringing out the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “The spirit was gone. Apartment was empty…. Happy?”

His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles whitening around the butt of the gun as his mouth finally worked enough to piece together a string of words, as insufficient to express his displeasure as they were.

“You _bitch_.”

Ruby just grinned, and Sam had to look away. 

                                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stalked across the room, scuffing his way through the inactive Devil’s trap, and threw the shovel on table with a muffled clatter. He dug through his duffel bag, pulling out a bottle of aspirin, and shook several into his hand.

Ruby leaned against the post just behind him, keeping a measured distance.

“Just give it time, Sam. It’ll get better.”

“What?” he sneered, popping the pills into his mouth and taking a generous slug of whiskey to wash them down. “I need more practice?”

“I’m not talking about pulling demons,” Ruby said, her voice softer as Sam sat back on the table to glare at her, the whiskey still clutched in his hand. “I know losing Dean was…”

The slam of the bottle on the tabletop cut off her words, Sam pointing an accusing finger to silence her. “Hey…I don’t want to talk about it.” Sam took a ragged breath and shuffled in his seat, unable to direct his anger at her when she was wearing that face. “You know what…where do you get off slapping me with that greeting card ‘time heals’ crap? What the hell do you know?”

“I used to be human…and I still remember what it feels like to lose someone.”

Ruby hesitated a moment before walking closer, knowing she was pushing the ill-defined boundaries he’d purposefully set up between them. “I’m sorry.” As the words fell from her lips, she reached out to cup his cheek in her large hand and Sam turned his head away, unable to look in her eyes.

A curt sound of disapproval spilled from him as he wagged a shaking finger at her, twisting further away from the touch of her gun-calloused fingers on his cheek.

“Don’t,” Sam whispered, the broken sound drawing her focus to his lips before she stared back up at his eyes, the large man shaking with repressed emotion. “I _can’t_.”

“Sam, you’re not alone.”

Ruby pushed forward into his space, kissing him like the sudden strike of a snake, and Sam sucked in a startled breath, inadvertently opening his mouth to hers. He couldn’t help but to kiss back, reaching up to cup her head in his hand, but when he felt the soft brush of her short hair against his fingers he pulled away with another sound of refusal, quickly standing to stalk across the room to put distance between them.

“What are you doing?” he gasped in disbelief, his breath coming too quickly.

“Sam, it’s okay.”

He fell on the couch, looking at her and pointing his finger accusingly as he shouted, “No! That is anything but _okay_!” Sam pointed at the floor as if that statement alone proved his argument, before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Her confusion sounded legitimate, and it angered him that he even had to try to explain.

“What’s wrong?!” Sam said, the low rumble of his fury clear. “Where do I _start_?!”

He sat rigid on the sofa, still mindlessly wiping at his mouth, almost caressing the kiss-swollen lips, the soft scrape of her stubble having left a burn along the soft flesh surrounding them.

“Is it because of the body?”

She approached quickly, not giving him time to think, not giving him time to deflect her maneuver by changing position. Ruby shed her leather coat and the flannel outer shirt she wore, dropping them to the floor as she fell to her knees between his legs, grasping at his hands still hovering near his mouth. She yanked them down and rested her forehead against his, the silver of her ring burning in a bright flash of cold against the flesh of Sam’s hand.

“Because I told you, it’s all me inside of here. There’s no one else in here.”

Ruby forced his hands down to her belly and slid them under her shirt, her mouth hovering over his. “And it’s nice inside this body, Sam.”

His hand splayed open possessively across the muscled casing of her torso, even as he tilted his head back, not wanting to look at her, breathing harshly through his nose.

It made it easier when he couldn’t see those eyes.

“It’s soft…and warm…” She continued to writhe against him, her breath ghosting over his clammy skin.

“What are you doing?” Sam stuttered out, his voice hovering on the edge of breaking as her full-lipped mouth brushed over his forehead.

“Is it because you’re really scared to go there with a demon? Because it’s wrong…and it’s bad…and we shouldn’t?”

He gritted his teeth as he tried to resist, the familiar timbre of that voice curling in his brain and making him remember when things were different.

Making him remember a time when he wasn’t the only one left.

“Or is it because of the wrapping?”

Sam grabbed her head, needing to capture and hold this moment in his hands. He kissed her hungrily, feeling those plump lips moving under his, drawing him further into this madness. She nipped at his bottom lip with sharp teeth and his hands gripped her face, the soft sandy stubble dusting her cheeks rasping teasingly over his skin. The hair on her scalp was short, a soft brush against the palms of his hands as he slid further back, the gel used to spike the crown just edging the tips of his fingers as he clasped her head to keep her still.

His kisses came harder, needing to punish her for making him feel this, for making him do this while wearing that face.

He reached out, cupping his hands under her round ass, lifting her, the movement taking more effort than it usually would as he hefted nearly one hundred eighty-five pounds of muscle into his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled her closer, the strength of her grip keeping him pinned in place.

Not that he wanted to go anywhere else at the moment.

Sam tore off her shirt, and at the sight of that pale, freckled skin, Sam leaned in again, his kisses more demanding, his hands tracing the map of old scars that decorated the muscled back twitching beneath his palms.

He kept his eyes closed, refusing to look down to see the half-healed wounds that marred the front side, those livid pink slashes that still striped her chest, no matter how many months she resided in that body.

Ruby ground down into his lap, feeling Sam’s hardness rocking against the curve of her ass.

He let out a shuddering breath, his breath coming out in hot pants against her collarbone as his hands restlessly smoothed over the swell of her hips, needing more, but knowing he shouldn’t ask.

Knowing he shouldn’t want it at all.

“Why?” Sam begged breathlessly, and her eyes glittered at his question, understanding what he was truly asking. When she didn’t reply, he asked again, his voice cracking even as he kept tasting her, delving deeper to find something familiar hidden beneath the flavor of demon that burned on his tongue.

“Because, Sam…” she purred, writhing wantonly against him as she pulled slightly away. “He’s the only one you’d listen to. I needed you to _listen_.”

He groaned into her mouth, reaching down to fumble with the zipper on her jeans, his mind too fogged to think past getting his hands on warm skin and hard, willing flesh.

“So I gave you what you wanted, Sam,” she said with a look of grim determination. “And you _will_ listen.”

At her insistent tug on his hair, feeling her leaning away from his kisses when he remained silent, he gave in, groaning his agreement with a soft sob, and she smiled into his mouth with triumph gleaming in her green eyes.

“Yes, Dean…. Whatever you say.”

 


End file.
